


oceans of him [nagito/reader]

by darling_bynnie



Category: Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Drawing, F/M, Female Reader, Fluffy, M/M, Non-binary Reader - Freeform, Other, male reader - Freeform, niche talent but it works, pronoun requests open, ultimate calligrapher reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:33:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27116845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darling_bynnie/pseuds/darling_bynnie
Summary: a 2,727-word fic of a bunch of nagito fluff. different chapters will pop up for different pronouns; feel free to request your own pronouns, i'm open to all.if the grammar is off, it's because grammarly works really badly on ao3 and i'm lazy.
Relationships: Komaeda Nagito & Reader, Komaeda Nagito/Reader, Sonia Nevermind & Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 57





	1. they/them pronouns

**Author's Note:**

> trigger warning: self-deprecation, as nagito fics always have.

All was well in the Neo-World Program. The choice for Y/N and Nagito, along with most of the others, had been simple; would they have rather gone back to the real world, where the world had ended and everyone they loved was dead (and they had been the bastards that caused it) or stayed in a tropical paradise with their friends, where those still alive could come and go, with no recollection of the traumatic events of The Biggest, Most Awful, Most Tragic Event In Human History. It had felt difficult on the spot, but in hindsight, their choice was a simple one.

And at this moment, things were even more peaceful than they could have ever imagined it to be, especially with the way things had been just a month ago. The pair in the killing game. Finding out that he had tried to kill someone with not much real motive. Watching him be tied up and not fed (or given drink) for three whole days. Seeing him rendered incapable by despair disease and left alone by Hajime (who didn’t seem to understand that he was lying, he had to- are you stupid, Hajime?), hearing that he had entered the Final Dead Room and played Russian Roulette with five bullets in the chamber, and seeing his body in the Warehouse, so gruesomely tortured. Neither of the pair could enter that building.

But none of that mattered anymore, right? Because they were all here, and okay, right? Right. It couldn’t have mattered too much to Nagito, anyways, because he seemed so okay, even though they knew he wasn’t, really. Surely the Neo-World Program was the safest and best choice for him, anyways. So they had simply gone along with it. Although being honest, they would have chosen it anyway.

L/N F/N. The Ultimate Calligrapher. Sketching had never quite been their talent, but somehow their lucky other half had managed to drag them into drawing with him. Specifically, drawing each other. It was a curious way to spend free time, they admitted, but when someone like Nagito asked you to spend time with them, you couldn’t just say no.

So that was where they found themself. Sitting on the floor of their own sparsely decorated cottage, with a pencil and paper in front of them. Sparsely decorated basically meant a few pens that they had brought with them scattered around the floor, a decent amount of paper randomly around the floor, and an unmade bed. No decorations, other than the supplies, and not much else. There was an empty frame sitting on a bedside table, something which they had no reason to put anything in, but it seemed the Future Foundation was rather desperate to get them to put something in it. Make some memories, make more friends. Maybe they were worried that their Remnant tendencies were coming back, Remnant memories; but Y/N knew this wasn’t happening. They just often viewed themself or could be viewed as anti-social, and nobody really talked to them.

Bar Nagito.

Gosh, Nagito. He had approached them right at the start when they seemed lonely. Never, ever left their side. Defended them in trials right until the end. Seeing him in the Warehouse was absolute hell for them, and Trial 5 was even worse. After that, Y/N had been rendered almost useless and nobody could get through to them; when nobody could figure out why they wouldn’t speak they just cried harder. Being his friend and seeing all his struggles was hard enough, yet sobbing in his arms after the second trial and ending up his partner just made things harder.

Of course, things were easier in some ways. They had someone even more stable by their side (well, him being there was stable. Actually calling Nagito Komaeda stable was a massive lie) and there was someone to fight for and believe in. Something.

And that someone was back again. They couldn’t be more thankful for the long hair, slightly crazy albino who sat before them with a pencil held tightly in his fingers and tongue bitten slightly in a face of pure concentration. Every so often grey eyes flickered up from the paper and his pencil hesitated, and Komaeda would chuckle at them. “What are you looking at?” he would chuckle, “Trash like me doesn’t deserve looking at the way you do, you know. I’ve gotten lucky enough to have you draw me, what with your amazing artist skills.”

And Y/N would laugh back, a blush creeping across their cheeks. “I’m a calligrapher. I do the words, not the drawings.”

Nevertheless, their drawing did turn out pretty okay. They were rather shocked when they put down the pencil and took a step back, a light flickering in their eyes as they glanced over it. Of course, upon hearing a stumble as they pushed the work away from them, Komaeda looked up brightly, that small smile of his forming quickly on his face. “Wow, Y/N! Is that really the way you view someone as worthless as me? No- it’s incredible!” Their face turned into a small frown, and the lucky student seemed to have taken that as distaste. Well, technically it was in distaste, but not in the way he assumed it was. “No, don’t worry; but I do have one thing to say.” they hummed. Nagito’s brow quirked. “Huh? What is it, Y/N?”

“Nothing too much, I suppose. Just that I wish you wouldn’t talk quite so badly about yourself sometimes.” The pair had had this conversation millions of times before, and it had never gone quite as well as intended; however, it wasn’t like that ever stopped them trying. After all, it almost physically hurt them to see the way he self-deprecated so harshly. “Ah- don’t say anything- I know I’ve said this a million times before. But just give it a shot for me, okay?” they grinned at him toothily and rubbed the back of their neck. For once, the albino agreed.

“Fine. Honestly, though, that looks amazing!” he grinned, and although to some the moment may have seemed lost to them it was still as perfect as it had been an hour ago when the pair had sat down on the floor, them tousling his hair (it made no difference to its messy appearance) and him pretending to be annoyed. The jostling sort of friendship that the two shared was what made Y/N love the days that they spent together here on the island under the sun even more, the cherry on the already incredible cake.

“Let me see yours,” they laughed. “I’m sure it’s amazing too!” The guy sat in front of them simply tugged the paper closer to himself, not letting them see what they were sure was a masterpiece. (It wasn’t.) “No, Bagel, there’s not much point. It’s absolute tra-” he caught himself with a sheepish smile and an awkward laugh. For once, not his silly, maniac laugh (that they still adored) but an awkward, cute (though they were the only one who would call it that!) and most importantly genuine laugh. They liked that.

After a decent struggle, Y/N was able to tug the paper away from Nagito with a light laugh. “Mine, mine, mine!” they cheered, and he simply looked grumpier than ever. Even (the late) Monokuma would have been surprised by the amount of despair he seemed to exude, especially for someone who oh so dearly adored his hope. I’ll be your stepping stone for hope, my ass. 

They opened up the now tightly folded piece of paper. Some may call a folded work ruined or ugly, but Y/N knew something others may not. It added to the story. Gave it another memory. It made something that they treasured already all that more special to them. A few stray pencil marks from the friendly scuffle they had had were defacing the back of what in any other set of eyes was awful but in theirs was perfect, and the boy sat across from them looked more embarrassed than they had ever seen him. “I really messed it up, didn’t I?” he asked, glancing at the floor. So interesting. “I should have just let you have it. It would have gone better, overall.”

“No! You just don’t understand, do you?” they sighed, and he glanced up, a curious look forming in grey eyes that twisted and swirled, almost in a hypnotising way. Sometimes the two jokingly hypothesised that that was why Y/N had stuck around. “These little things just make it better. It gives me even more memories to attach to a happy day. And look-” they opened the paper with a wide smile, glancing up slightly to show just how proud they were. “This is stunning.” It wasn’t, but the fact it existed was better than incredible for them. “I love it.”

They spent probably too long talking about anything and everything, complimenting each other and self-deprecating all the same (Y/N had long since given up on trying to stop him. It seemed to be an awful, hard to break habit) until eventually the moon could be seen from the small window. When someone, and nobody could tell you which of the pair, finally broke the peace and stood up, you could hear them both sigh. Y/N had had Nagito’s head resting on their shoulder by the end of it, nimble hands threading through light hair with tints of, in their slightly delirious and sleepy state, every colour of the rainbow.

“Hnngh- please don’t go,” they mumbled, rubbing their eyes. The lucky student seemed a little disoriented too, but he simply shook his head. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Bye for now,” he smiled, and stepped out of the cottage. The door slowly swung shut behind him.

The difference was so instantly noticeable, it hurt. The room was colder, the draft was suddenly louder and a hundred times worse. They stood up and closed the window. Things weren’t any better. Then again, they knew that things would always feel in any sense emptier without not only the person to rest on, lean on, rely on gone, but the whole presence of their boyfriend disappeared. Sure, they would see him again tomorrow, but until they could get to sleep the cottage was so eerily quiet. The sounds of the waves and the birds were all that accompanied them as they picked up the discarded sketch of themself on the floor, now slightly crumpled. They could go to bed, but first, there were a couple of things they needed to do.

Firstly, Y/N picked up one of the few pens on the floor. In large, loopy handwriting, they began to write on the back of the paper, the same determined look that the missing lucky boy had worn while drawing plastered onto their face.

Hi, Komaeda.  
I know you’ll see this in the frame, and you’ll try and take it out because it ‘isn’t worthy of that place’. That’s when (fingers crossed) you’ll see this. I don’t know how long it’ll take, but it’s DD/MM/YYYY right now. You drew this for me today, and it may not be technically perfect but it’s the best thing I’ve ever seen. The Future Foundation will be proud.  
I love you. We should do this again.

Y/N

Then, with a small, yet triumphant, smile on their face, they opened up the frame and slid in the sketch, conveniently the right size. Maybe the Foundation just knew things that they didn’t, or maybe fate loved them. Either way, something weird was going on behind the scenes and they loved it. 

That was all the Nagito-related things for now. They didn’t know how long it would take, but soon enough they knew he would find the paper and inevitably try to take it out (or, worst-case scenario, complain, but they would just tell him to ‘take it out, then’ surely?) and things would work out okay. With that happy thought in their head, they readied themself for bed and promptly collapsed.

That didn’t mean they could fall asleep straight away, though. In fact, falling asleep within half an hour of laying down was a rare occurrence for Y/N, although this seemed like it might be their lucky night. As birds chirped loudly and the waves crashed against the shore in a, somehow, scary but calming way, they were taken back to even more memories, and these were what rocked them away to the quiet world of peaceful sleep.

Sitting on the beach together. They were stargazing that night, toes dipped in the water that lapped up to the shore. It was all sandy and gross, but neither of the pair had much of an issue with it; not when they were in each other’s arms. That night, they had found the brightest stars (that Y/N later found out were planets) and named them for each other with a light laugh and a spindly, pointed finger. With some research, Y/N discovered that their planet was Venus and Nagito’s Mars. So, now, they couldn’t study the solar system without a smile.

After that much, they discovered that sleep had claimed them. This was discovered by the loud buzz of an alarm and the very, very bright sunlight streaming in through the wide-open window. In their sleepy, love-struck haze of the last night, they had forgotten to so much as close the blinds of their cottage, or even close the pane, resulting in a loud, cold draft blowing in through the gap. As perfect and tropical as the island was supposed to be, the weather truly seemed to suck sometimes. They guessed that came with being right next to the ocean… on all sides.

Oh, how the island restaurant was their best friend. Tugging on a pair of dungarees and some loose top they had discarded aside (likely their comfy one) they refused to care any more about the way they looked and trudged up the stairs with legs full of lead - at least, that was what it felt like. As the door swung open and with barely open eyes they glanced around, they found themself unaccompanied bar one Sonia Nevermind and a plate of waffles being held out to them, by the aforementioned Sonia.

She was rather a lovely girl, once you got to know her. At the very least, she was trying her best. “Ah, Y/N! Welcome!” she cheered with a wide smile. “Please, take these and sit down.”

Themself and her were the ‘early risers’ left of the group, for now, meaning they had gotten to know each other rather well. They talked often in the mornings (although one party was a lot more enthusiastic about it than the other) and by the time the others filed in, they were quite comfortably chatting together. “Hey, Sonia,” they murmured with a small smile, taking the plate and sitting at a table. She had learned to recognise the signs of a late night in her friend Y/N, and today was not one of them; consequentially, she was a lot more chirpy and excitable. Respectful, really.

The chatter continued, and eventually the groups left of them filed into the restaurant in the same way they always did (Yet again, only two people had chosen to go back. The Impostor and Ibuki). The only missing faces were Fuyuhiko and Nagito; yet, Fuyuhiko’s disappearance was on the usual. Peko simply quickly and silently stood up from her chair to search, and Y/N did the same thing. Nobody questioned them.

Their first plan of action was Nagito’s own cottage, but to no avail. After all, that thought was logical. If their lucky other half was anything, he was not logical (unless he really needed to be). Their next thought may have been a selfish one, but it was rational and full of hope, so surely Nagito would have approved. And by chance he did, because there he was, stood just in the middle of Y/N’s cottage.

Not like they cared. They just cared that he was holding his drawing, reading the back, just like they had intended. And two, soft words slipped out his mouth, a smile weak on his face.

“Thank you.”


	2. she/her

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> she/her pronouns

All was well in the Neo-World Program. The choice for Y/N and Nagito, along with most of the others, had been simple; would they have rather gone back to the real world, where the world had ended and everyone they loved was dead (and they had been the bastards that caused it) or stayed in a tropical paradise with their friends, where those still alive could come and go, with no recollection of the traumatic events of The Biggest, Most Awful, Most Tragic Event In Human History. It had felt difficult on the spot, but in hindsight, their choice was a simple one.

And at this moment, things were even more peaceful than they could have ever imagined it to be, especially with the way things had been just a month ago. The pair in the killing game. Finding out that he had tried to kill someone with not much real motive. Watching him be tied up and not fed (or given drink) for three whole days. Seeing him rendered incapable by despair disease and left alone by Hajime (who didn’t seem to understand that he was lying, he had to- are you stupid, Hajime?), hearing that he had entered the Final Dead Room and played Russian Roulette with five bullets in the chamber, and seeing his body in the Warehouse, so gruesomely tortured. Neither of the pair could enter that building.

But none of that mattered anymore, right? Because they were all here, and okay, right? Right. It couldn’t have mattered too much to Nagito, anyways, because he seemed so okay, even though she knew he wasn’t, really. Surely the Neo-World Program was the safest and best choice for him, anyways. So she had simply gone along with it. Although being honest, she would have chosen it anyway.

L/N F/N. The Ultimate Calligrapher. Sketching had never quite been her talent, but somehow her lucky other half had managed to drag her into drawing with him. Specifically, drawing each other. It was a curious way to spend free time, she admitted, but when someone like Nagito asked you to spend time with them, you couldn’t just say no.

So that was where she found herself. Sitting on the floor of her own sparsely decorated cottage, with a pencil and paper in front of her. Sparsely decorated basically meant a few pens that she had brought with her scattered around the floor, a decent amount of paper randomly around the floor, and an unmade bed. No decorations, other than the supplies, and not much else. There was an empty frame sitting on a bedside table, something which she had no reason to put anything in, but it seemed the Future Foundation was rather desperate to get her to put something in it. Make some memories, make more friends. Maybe they were worried that her Remnant tendencies were coming back, Remnant memories; but Y/N knew this wasn’t happening. She just often viewed herself or could be viewed as anti-social, and nobody really talked to her.

Bar Nagito.

Gosh, Nagito. He had approached her right at the start when she seemed lonely. Never, ever left her side. Defended her in trials right until the end. Seeing him in the Warehouse was absolute hell for her, and Trial 5 was even worse. After that, Y/N had been rendered almost useless and nobody could get through to her; when nobody could figure out why she wouldn’t speak she just cried harder. Being his friend and seeing all his struggles was hard enough, yet sobbing in his arms after the second trial and ending up his partner just made things harder.

Of course, things were easier in some ways. She had someone even more stable by her side (well, him being there was stable. Actually calling Nagito Komaeda stable was a massive lie) and there was someone to fight for and believe in. Something.

And that someone was back again. She couldn’t be more thankful for the long hair, slightly crazy albino who sat before them with a pencil held tightly in his fingers and tongue bitten slightly in a face of pure concentration. Every so often grey eyes flickered up from the paper and his pencil hesitated, and Komaeda would chuckle at her. “What are you looking at?” he would chuckle, “Trash like me doesn’t deserve looking at the way you do, you know. I’ve gotten lucky enough to have you draw me, what with your amazing artist skills.”

And Y/N would laugh back, a blush creeping across her cheeks. “I’m a calligrapher. I do the words, not the drawings.”

Nevertheless, her drawing did turn out pretty okay. She was rather shocked when she put down the pencil and took a step back, a light flickering in her eyes as she glanced over it. Of course, upon hearing a stumble as she pushed the work away from her, Komaeda looked up brightly, that small smile of his forming quickly on his face. “Wow, Y/N! Is that really the way you view someone as worthless as me? No- it’s incredible!” Her face turned into a small frown, and the lucky student seemed to have taken that as distaste. Well, technically it was in distaste, but not in the way he assumed it was. “No, don’t worry; but I do have one thing to say.” she hummed. Nagito’s brow quirked. “Huh? What is it, Y/N?”

“Nothing too much, I suppose. Just that I wish you wouldn’t talk quite so badly about yourself sometimes.” The pair had had this conversation millions of times before, and it had never gone quite as well as intended; however, it wasn’t like that ever stopped her trying. After all, it almost physically hurt her to see the way he self-deprecated so harshly. “Ah- don’t say anything- I know I’ve said this a million times before. But just give it a shot for me, okay?” she grinned at him toothily and rubbed the back of her neck. For once, the albino agreed.

“Fine. Honestly, though, that looks amazing!” he grinned, and although to some the moment may have seemed lost to her it was still as perfect as it had been an hour ago when the pair had sat down on the floor, her tousling his hair (it made no difference to its messy appearance) and him pretending to be annoyed. The jostling sort of friendship that the two shared was what made Y/N love the days that they spent together here on the island under the sun even more, the cherry on the already incredible cake.

“Let me see yours,” she laughed. “I’m sure it’s amazing too!” The guy sat in front of her simply tugged the paper closer to himself, not letting her see what she was sure was a masterpiece. (It wasn’t.) “No, Bagel, there’s not much point. It’s absolute tra-” he caught himself with a sheepish smile and an awkward laugh. For once, not his silly, maniac laugh (that she still adored) but an awkward, cute (though she was the only one who would call it that!) and most importantly genuine laugh. She liked that.

After a decent struggle, Y/N was able to tug the paper away from Nagito with a light laugh. “Mine, mine, mine!” she cheered, and he simply looked grumpier than ever. Even (the late) Monokuma would have been surprised by the amount of despair he seemed to exude, especially for someone who oh so dearly adored his hope. I’ll be your stepping stone for hope, my ass. 

She opened up the now tightly folded piece of paper. Some may call a folded work ruined or ugly, but Y/N knew something others may not. It added to the story. Gave it another memory. It made something that she treasured already all that more special to her. A few stray pencil marks from the friendly scuffle they had had were defacing the back of what in any other set of eyes was awful but in hers was perfect, and the boy sat across from her looked more embarrassed than she had ever seen him. “I really messed it up, didn’t I?” he asked, glancing at the floor. So interesting. “I should have just let you have it. It would have gone better, overall.”

“No! You just don’t understand, do you?” she sighed, and he glanced up, a curious look forming in grey eyes that twisted and swirled, almost in a hypnotising way. Sometimes the two jokingly hypothesised that that was why Y/N had stuck around. “These little things just make it better. It gives me even more memories to attach to a happy day. And look-” she opened the paper with a wide smile, glancing up slightly to show just how proud she was. “This is stunning.” It wasn’t, but the fact it existed was better than incredible for her. “I love it.”

They spent probably too long talking about anything and everything, complimenting each other and self-deprecating all the same (Y/N had long since given up on trying to stop him. It seemed to be an awful, hard to break habit) until eventually the moon could be seen from the small window. When someone, and nobody could tell you which of the pair, finally broke the peace and stood up, you could hear them both sigh. Y/N had had Nagito’s head resting on her shoulder by the end of it, nimble hands threading through light hair with tints of, in her slightly delirious and sleepy state, every colour of the rainbow.

“Hnngh- please don’t go,” she mumbled, rubbing her eyes. The lucky student seemed a little disoriented too, but he simply shook his head. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Bye for now,” he smiled, and stepped out of the cottage. The door slowly swung shut behind him.

The difference was so instantly noticeable, it hurt. The room was colder, the draft was suddenly louder and a hundred times worse. They stood up and closed the window. Things weren’t any better. Then again, she knew that things would always feel in any sense emptier without not only the person to rest on, lean on, rely on gone, but the whole presence of her boyfriend disappeared. Sure, she would see him again tomorrow, but until she could get to sleep the cottage was so eerily quiet. The sounds of the waves and the birds were all that accompanied her as she picked up the discarded sketch of herself on the floor, now slightly crumpled. She could go to bed, but first, there were a couple of things she needed to do.

Firstly, Y/N picked up one of the few pens on the floor. In large, loopy handwriting, she began to write on the back of the paper, the same determined look that the missing lucky boy had worn while drawing plastered onto her face.

Hi, Komaeda.  
I know you’ll see this in the frame, and you’ll try and take it out because it ‘isn’t worthy of that place’. That’s when (fingers crossed) you’ll see this. I don’t know how long it’ll take, but it’s DD/MM/YYYY right now. You drew this for me today, and it may not be technically perfect but it’s the best thing I’ve ever seen. The Future Foundation will be proud.  
I love you. We should do this again.

Y/N

Then, with a small, yet triumphant, smile on her face, she opened up the frame and slid in the sketch, conveniently the right size. Maybe the Foundation just knew things that she didn’t, or maybe fate loved her. Either way, something weird was going on behind the scenes and she loved it. 

That was all the Nagito-related things for now. She didn’t know how long it would take, but soon enough she knew he would find the paper and inevitably try to take it out (or, worst-case scenario, complain, but she would just tell him to ‘take it out, then’ surely?) and things would work out okay. With that happy thought in her head, she readied herself for bed and promptly collapsed.

That didn’t mean she could fall asleep straight away, though. In fact, falling asleep within half an hour of laying down was a rare occurrence for Y/N, although this seemed like it might be her lucky night. As birds chirped loudly and the waves crashed against the shore in a, somehow, scary but calming way, she was taken back to even more memories, and these were what rocked her away to the quiet world of peaceful sleep.

Sitting on the beach together. They were stargazing that night, toes dipped in the water that lapped up to the shore. It was all sandy and gross, but neither of the pair had much of an issue with it; not when they were in each other’s arms. That night, they had found the brightest stars (that Y/N later found out were planets) and named them for each other with a light laugh and a spindly, pointed finger. With some research, Y/N discovered that her planet was Venus and Nagito’s Mars. So, now, she couldn’t study the solar system without a smile.

After that much, she discovered that sleep had claimed her. This was discovered by the loud buzz of an alarm and the very, very bright sunlight streaming in through the wide-open window. In her sleepy, love-struck haze of the last night, she had forgotten to so much as close the blinds of her cottage, or even close the pane, resulting in a loud, cold draft blowing in through the gap. As perfect and tropical as the island was supposed to be, the weather truly seemed to suck sometimes. She guessed that came with being right next to the ocean… on all sides.

Oh, how the island restaurant was her best friend. Tugging on a pair of dungarees and some loose top she had discarded aside (likely her comfy one) she refused to care anymore about the way she looked and trudged up the stairs with legs full of lead - at least, that was what it felt like. As the door swung open and with barely open eyes she glanced around, she found herself unaccompanied bar one Sonia Nevermind and a plate of waffles being held out to her, by the aforementioned Sonia.

She was rather a lovely girl, once you got to know her. At the very least, she was trying her best. “Ah, Y/N! Welcome!” she cheered with a wide smile. “Please, take these and sit down.”

Themself and her were the ‘early risers’ left of the group, for now, meaning they had gotten to know each other rather well. They talked often in the mornings (although one party was a lot more enthusiastic about it than the other) and by the time the others filed in, they were quite comfortably chatting together. “Hey, Sonia,” she murmured with a small smile, taking the plate and sitting at a table. She had learned to recognise the signs of a late night in her friend Y/N, and today was not one of them; consequentially, she was a lot more chirpy and excitable. Respectful, really.

The chatter continued, and eventually the groups left of them filed into the restaurant in the same way they always did (Yet again, only two people had chosen to go back. The Impostor and Ibuki). The only missing faces were Fuyuhiko and Nagito; yet, Fuyuhiko’s disappearance was on the usual. Peko simply quickly and silently stood up from her chair to search, and Y/N did the same thing. Nobody questioned them.

Their first plan of action was Nagito’s own cottage, but to no avail. After all, that thought was logical. If her lucky other half was anything, he was not logical (unless he really needed to be). Her next thought may have been a selfish one, but it was rational and full of hope, so surely Nagito would have approved. And by chance he did, because there he was, stood just in the middle of Y/N’s cottage.

Not like she cared. She just cared that he was holding his drawing, reading the back, just like she had intended. And two, soft words slipped out his mouth, a smile weak on his face.

“Thank you.”


	3. he/him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> he/him pronouns. there are barely any nagito/exclusively male reader so I added to the fund :) this is not a definitive end to the pronouns collection as neopronoun requests are always open, we accept u here <3  
> also next fic might be an ibuki fic !! (yes this is extra hinting content for all u male or he/him using readers and u only bc u don't get NEARLY enough love in the world of /reader, love u all)

All was well in the Neo-World Program. The choice for Y/N and Nagito, along with most of the others, had been simple; would they have rather gone back to the real world, where the world had ended and everyone they loved was dead (and they had been the bastards that caused it) or stayed in a tropical paradise with their friends, where those still alive could come and go, with no recollection of the traumatic events of The Biggest, Most Awful, Most Tragic Event In Human History. It had felt difficult on the spot, but in hindsight, their choice was a simple one.

And at this moment, things were even more peaceful than they could have ever imagined it to be, especially with the way things had been just a month ago. The pair in the killing game. Finding out that he had tried to kill someone with not much real motive. Watching him be tied up and not fed (or given drink) for three whole days. Seeing him rendered incapable by despair disease and left alone by Hajime (who didn’t seem to understand that he was lying, he had to- are you stupid, Hajime?), hearing that he had entered the Final Dead Room and played Russian Roulette with five bullets in the chamber, and seeing his body in the Warehouse, so gruesomely tortured. Neither of the pair could enter that building.

But none of that mattered anymore, right? Because they were all here, and okay, right? Right. It couldn’t have mattered too much to Nagito, anyways, because he seemed so okay, even though he knew he wasn’t, really. Surely the Neo-World Program was the safest and best choice for him, anyways. So he had simply gone along with it. Although being honest, he would have chosen it anyway.

L/N F/N. The Ultimate Calligrapher. Sketching had never quite been his talent, but somehow his lucky other half had managed to drag him into drawing with him. Specifically, drawing each other. It was a curious way to spend free time, he admitted, but when someone like Nagito asked you to spend time with them, you couldn’t just say no.

So that was where he found himself. Sitting on the floor of his own sparsely decorated cottage, with a pencil and paper in front of him. Sparsely decorated basically meant a few pens that he had brought with him scattered around the floor, a decent amount of paper randomly around the floor, and an unmade bed. No decorations, other than the supplies, and not much else. There was an empty frame sitting on a bedside table, something which he had no reason to put anything in, but it seemed the Future Foundation was rather desperate to get him to put something in it. Make some memories, make more friends. Maybe they were worried that his Remnant tendencies were coming back, Remnant memories; but Y/N knew this wasn’t happening. He just often viewed himself or could be viewed as anti-social, and nobody really talked to him.

Bar Nagito.

Gosh, Nagito. He had approached him right at the start when he seemed lonely. Never, ever left his side. Defended him in trials right until the end. Seeing him in the Warehouse was absolute hell for him, and Trial 5 was even worse. After that, Y/N had been rendered almost useless and nobody could get through to him; when nobody could figure out why he wouldn’t speak he just cried harder. Being his friend and seeing all his struggles was hard enough, yet sobbing in his arms after the second trial and ending up his partner just made things harder.

Of course, things were easier in some ways. He had someone even more stable by his side (well, him being there was stable. Actually calling Nagito Komaeda stable was a massive lie) and there was someone to fight for and believe in. Something.

And that someone was back again. He couldn’t be more thankful for the long hair, slightly crazy albino who sat before them with a pencil held tightly in his fingers and tongue bitten slightly in a face of pure concentration. Every so often grey eyes flickered up from the paper and his pencil hesitated, and Komaeda would chuckle at him. “What are you looking at?” he would chuckle, “Trash like me doesn’t deserve looking at the way you do, you know. I’ve gotten lucky enough to have you draw me, what with your amazing artist skills.”

And Y/N would laugh back, a blush creeping across his cheeks. “I’m a calligrapher. I do the words, not the drawings.”

Nevertheless, his drawing did turn out pretty okay. He was rather shocked when he put down the pencil and took a step back, a light flickering in his eyes as he glanced over it. Of course, upon hearing a stumble as he pushed the work away from him, Komaeda looked up brightly, that small smile of his forming quickly on his face. “Wow, Y/N! Is that really the way you view someone as worthless as me? No- it’s incredible!” His face turned into a small frown, and the lucky student seemed to have taken that as distaste. Well, technically it was in distaste, but not in the way he assumed it was. “No, don’t worry; but I do have one thing to say.” he hummed. Nagito’s brow quirked. “Huh? What is it, Y/N?”

“Nothing too much, I suppose. Just that I wish you wouldn’t talk quite so badly about yourself sometimes.” The pair had had this conversation millions of times before, and it had never gone quite as well as intended; however, it wasn’t like that ever stopped him trying. After all, it almost physically hurt him to see the way he self-deprecated so harshly. “Ah- don’t say anything- I know I’ve said this a million times before. But just give it a shot for me, okay?” he grinned at him toothily and rubbed the back of his neck. For once, the albino agreed.

“Fine. Honestly, though, that looks amazing!” he grinned, and although to some the moment may have seemed lost to him it was still as perfect as it had been an hour ago when the pair had sat down on the floor, him tousling his hair (it made no difference to its messy appearance) and him pretending to be annoyed. The jostling sort of friendship that the two shared was what made Y/N love the days that they spent together here on the island under the sun even more, the cherry on the already incredible cake.

“Let me see yours,” he laughed. “I’m sure it’s amazing too!” The guy sat in front of him simply tugged the paper closer to himself, not letting him see what he was sure was a masterpiece. (It wasn’t.) “No, Bagel, there’s not much point. It’s absolute tra-” he caught himself with a sheepish smile and an awkward laugh. For once, not his silly, maniac laugh (that he still adored) but an awkward, cute (though he was the only one who would call it that!) and most importantly genuine laugh. He liked that.

After a decent struggle, Y/N was able to tug the paper away from Nagito with a light laugh. “Mine, mine, mine!” he cheered, and he simply looked grumpier than ever. Even (the late) Monokuma would have been surprised by the amount of despair he seemed to exude, especially for someone who oh so dearly adored his hope. I’ll be your stepping stone for hope, my ass. 

He opened up the now tightly folded piece of paper. Some may call a folded work ruined or ugly, but Y/N knew something others may not. It added to the story. Gave it another memory. It made something that he treasured already all that more special to him. A few stray pencil marks from the friendly scuffle they had had were defacing the back of what in any other set of eyes was awful but in his was perfect, and the boy sat across from him looked more embarrassed than he had ever seen him. “I really messed it up, didn’t I?” he asked, glancing at the floor. So interesting. “I should have just let you have it. It would have gone better, overall.”

“No! You just don’t understand, do you?” he sighed, and he glanced up, a curious look forming in grey eyes that twisted and swirled, almost in a hypnotising way. Sometimes the two jokingly hypothesised that that was why Y/N had stuck around. “These little things just make it better. It gives me even more memories to attach to a happy day. And look-” he opened the paper with a wide smile, glancing up slightly to show just how proud he was. “This is stunning.” It wasn’t, but the fact it existed was better than incredible for him. “I love it.”

They spent probably too long talking about anything and everything, complimenting each other and self-deprecating all the same (Y/N had long since given up on trying to stop him. It seemed to be an awful, hard to break habit) until eventually the moon could be seen from the small window. When someone, and nobody could tell you which of the pair, finally broke the peace and stood up, you could hear them both sigh. Y/N had had Nagito’s head resting on his shoulder by the end of it, nimble hands threading through light hair with tints of, in his slightly delirious and sleepy state, every colour of the rainbow.

“Hnngh- please don’t go,” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes. The lucky student seemed a little disoriented too, but he simply shook his head. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Bye for now,” he smiled, and stepped out of the cottage. The door slowly swung shut behind him.

The difference was so instantly noticeable, it hurt. The room was colder, the draft was suddenly louder and a hundred times worse. They stood up and closed the window. Things weren’t any better. Then again, he knew that things would always feel in any sense emptier without not only the person to rest on, lean on, rely on gone, but the whole presence of his boyfriend disappeared. Sure, he would see him again tomorrow, but until he could get to sleep the cottage was so eerily quiet. The sounds of the waves and the birds were all that accompanied him as he picked up the discarded sketch of herself on the floor, now slightly crumpled. He could go to bed, but first, there were a couple of things he needed to do.

Firstly, Y/N picked up one of the few pens on the floor. In large, loopy handwriting, he began to write on the back of the paper, the same determined look that the missing lucky boy had worn while drawing plastered onto his face.

Hi, Komaeda.  
I know you’ll see this in the frame, and you’ll try and take it out because it ‘isn’t worthy of that place’. That’s when (fingers crossed) you’ll see this. I don’t know how long it’ll take, but it’s DD/MM/YYYY right now. You drew this for me today, and it may not be technically perfect but it’s the best thing I’ve ever seen. The Future Foundation will be proud.  
I love you. We should do this again.

Y/N

Then, with a small, yet triumphant, smile on his face, he opened up the frame and slid in the sketch, conveniently the right size. Maybe the Foundation just knew things that he didn’t, or maybe fate loved him. Either way, something weird was going on behind the scenes and he loved it. 

That was all the Nagito-related things for now. He didn’t know how long it would take, but soon enough he knew he would find the paper and inevitably try to take it out (or, worst-case scenario, complain, but he would just tell him to ‘take it out, then’ surely?) and things would work out okay. With that happy thought in his head, he readied himself for bed and promptly collapsed.

That didn’t mean he could fall asleep straight away, though. In fact, falling asleep within half an hour of laying down was a rare occurrence for Y/N, although this seemed like it might be his lucky night. As birds chirped loudly and the waves crashed against the shore in a, somehow, scary but calming way, he was taken back to even more memories, and these were what rocked him away to the quiet world of peaceful sleep.

Sitting on the beach together. They were stargazing that night, toes dipped in the water that lapped up to the shore. It was all sandy and gross, but neither of the pair had much of an issue with it; not when they were in each other’s arms. That night, they had found the brightest stars (that Y/N later found out were planets) and named them for each other with a light laugh and a spindly, pointed finger. With some research, Y/N discovered that his planet was Venus and Nagito’s Mars. So, now, he couldn’t study the solar system without a smile.

After that much, he discovered that sleep had claimed him. This was discovered by the loud buzz of an alarm and the very, very bright sunlight streaming in through the wide-open window. In his sleepy, love-struck haze of the last night, he had forgotten to so much as close the blinds of his cottage, or even close the pane, resulting in a loud, cold draft blowing in through the gap. As perfect and tropical as the island was supposed to be, the weather truly seemed to suck sometimes. He guessed that came with being right next to the ocean… on all sides.

Oh, how the island restaurant was his best friend. Tugging on a pair of dungarees and some loose top he had discarded aside (likely his comfy one) he refused to care anymore about the way he looked and trudged up the stairs with legs full of lead - at least, that was what it felt like. As the door swung open and with barely open eyes he glanced around, he found himself unaccompanied bar one Sonia Nevermind and a plate of waffles being held out to him, by the aforementioned Sonia.

She was rather a lovely girl, once you got to know her. At the very least, she was trying her best. “Ah, Y/N! Welcome!” she cheered with a wide smile. “Please, take these and sit down.”

Himself and her were the ‘early risers’ left of the group, for now, meaning they had gotten to know each other rather well. They talked often in the mornings (although one party was a lot more enthusiastic about it than the other) and by the time the others filed in, they were quite comfortably chatting together. “Hey, Sonia,” he murmured with a small smile, taking the plate and sitting at a table. She had learned to recognise the signs of a late night in her friend Y/N, and today was not one of them; consequentially, she was a lot more chirpy and excitable. Respectful, really.

The chatter continued, and eventually the groups left of them filed into the restaurant in the same way they always did (Yet again, only two people had chosen to go back. The Impostor and Ibuki). The only missing faces were Fuyuhiko and Nagito; yet, Fuyuhiko’s disappearance was on the usual. Peko simply quickly and silently stood up from her chair to search, and Y/N did the same thing. Nobody questioned them.

His first plan of action was Nagito’s own cottage, but to no avail. After all, that thought was logical. If his lucky other half was anything, he was not logical (unless he really needed to be). His next thought may have been a selfish one, but it was rational and full of hope, so surely Nagito would have approved. And by chance he did, because there he was, stood just in the middle of Y/N’s cottage.

Not like he cared. He just cared that he was holding his drawing, reading the back, just like he had intended. And two, soft words slipped out his mouth, a smile weak on his face.

“Thank you.”


End file.
